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Met up with a friend yesterday that I haven't seen or chatted with in twenty years. It's enough to make a person feel old. We met in kindergarten when I bopped him in the nose in a fit of opportunity, and didn't drift apart until high school despite family events and moving across the province. It's not shocking that a lot of things have changed for both of us, but it's funny the things that stayed the same.

The kid who lives in my memories loved driving, tinkering, and competition and all three interests came together in watching his dad fix up cars and drive derby. He had a natural sense of empathy, and a sense of love and dedication to his family that went beyond his years. I remember the rad extroverted kid who'd take me on his adventures, and who came to visit for a rest from a crowded house. Neither of us had a lot, but what we had we shared. It helped that our moms were best friends too. It didn't shock me that as a man he spends his days driving, his nights being a great dad and devoted husband, and his off days fixing cars and driving

Last night, the elders of Britain failed their children. The United Kingdom's vote to leave the European Union is already depressing their economy and caused the resignation of Prime Minister David Cameron who, while not an especially forward-thinking politician, stands to be replaced by someone worse. Scotland is considering a second referendum for independence. I'm heading to Scotland in just over two weeks for my first ever vacation, so I may even get to see some of the slide toward a V for Vendetta style shitty future first hand.

I say the elders of Britain failed because they did. The referendum vote was easily split along lines of age. It's easy to point fingers at youth for not voting in a system that routinely disenfranchises them, or to point out that age and experience can lead people to vote differently than youth. But if we want to trade on the wisdom and commitment of elders, then it's necessary to acknowledge the responsibility of those elders to know better and vote in measures that will make the future better, not worse. To acknowledge that we live in the fastest century humankind has ever had, and that there may be issues that youth are

Favourite turn of phrase: "What could frighten an immortal more than his irrelevance?"

Lessons Learned: The tone is shifting dramatically. It's still not entirely clear to anyone not me what this is about, but it's vastly more intelligible than Ulysses, so there's that. Jails are hard to write. I don't know much about them, but don't feel compelled to learn. This is a world with wizards, the prison system works how I say it does.

Conclusion: Keep writing. Something is coming. It's waiting to happen, and I want to write the rise of the devil, even if he isn't the villain. Also also, I still need to get to the pop star.

Favourite line: No one was ready to know that creatures of myth and legend walked among them. That some of them hunted humanity, for food or for sport. No one was ready to be that afraid of the dark.

Lessons Learned: This gets easier, unsurprisingly. Characters do start to form. Exploring history is good, even if it has to happen in the middle of a chapter. It builds context and creates an opportunity for callbacks. Also, I definitely started this story in the middle.

Conclusions: Keep writing. Some of this may not be garbage. Also, you can write two thousand words in under two hours, and it makes you happy.

Lessons learned: I do not give fucks where anything happens. This thing reads like a play. I do not, at all, understand human beings or their behaviour.

Conclusion:
I should keep writing, but consider withdrawing from humanity for fear that they may discover I am not one of them. Also, I do not deserve to read books, nor to claim that I understand how they work in the slightest.

It's Canadian Thanksgiving, which means I'm in a whole other city visiting family and dogs and things. It's 1am and there's a dog who refuses to go to bed as long as one other person in the house is awake. I'm writing and getting this week's videos ready, and thinking about how my family is weird.

It's not that strange, my understanding is that everyone's family has its quirks and oddities. Mine is that we sit quietly in rooms together. Hours can go by without anyone doing more than making polite conversation, whether in the house, over dinner, or in the car. A few sentences are exchanged, and then we go back to what we're doing. My aunt putters on her ipad, my cousin relaxing in her chair, my mum busying herself with knitting while a History Channel show about aliens blares in the background. I'm attached to my laptop of course, writing or playing games or doing whatever it is that I do on this thing.

It's quiet, apart from the aforementioned aliens show. Even the dog is quiet. The cat is a ghost. Even the house holds its peace. It's an easy silence. We're interested in different things, is all. four